


Hearts like Ice and Stone

by fiorenza



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kind of Depressing, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, but also kind of hopeful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 03:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10267262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiorenza/pseuds/fiorenza
Summary: (aka Frozen Pain) Jadis caught the other three siblings and the Beavers, but she decided to keep Edmund. One small boy is hardly a threat now that she's eliminated the threat of a prophecy come true.





	

In the early light of morning, a dark wolf followed down the hill a set of staggering, uneven footsteps in the deep snow. The footsteps were clear, and he didn’t even bother sniffing them, or going faster than a slow trot. He knew where his prey had gone, and he knew his prey would be unable to run fast enough to escape, even if there was somewhere to run to.

The soft pads made little noise as he veered into the woods, but the boy kneeling there looked up at him anyways. In front of the boy were five statues. For a moment the wolf paused, taking in the subdued shivering form and the haunted eyes. Months ago, in Her Majesty’s frozen hall he had seen those dark eyes for the first time; they had been full of life, defiance, and fear. Now, they held only despair. 

The boy locked eyes with the wolf for a moment longer, then turned back towards the statues, his shoulders slumping even further. The contrast between his defeated posture and the fearful, protective defiance written in every line of the taller shape's form itched at the wolf. Something here was wrong.

“Edmund, she will be looking for you soon,” said the wolf, his voice surprisingly soft with pity. He wondered when he'd grown _fond_ of the boy.

Edmund flinched slightly, but made no other sign that he had heard. 

The wolf sighed. “Why do you come here? It only makes life harder for you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

The wolf twitched his tail in irritation. “What do you mean ‘it doesn’t matter’? If she discovers you came here again, that foot will just be the beginning."

Edmund put a hand on the stone shoe encasing his foot and closed his eyes in a grimace. They both knew that eventually the foot would become infected or frostbitten and have to be amputated—a long, cruel punishment. Her Majesty had gotten annoyed at how often her pet human ran away.

The wolf stalked over to the small form of the half-frozen boy and pounced, knocking the boy over. One paw on each shoulder, the wolf glared down at the boy. 

“Malyed?”

“Do you think I enjoy seeing you waste away? Your siblings are gone. Those statues are not coming back to life. It’s time for you to move on. Think! Plan! What do you want? What are you prepared to do to get it? Even if all you want is to find a way to live one more day without adding to your pain.” What was he even saying? This was practically sedition. The Queen would have his hide for this. But this vulnerable, furless form had stirred some long-suppressed protective instinct, and he'd drink tree-sap before he lost another cub. 

Those dark eyes stared up at him. “I deserve it.”

“What?” growled Malyed.

“The pain. I deserve it.”

Malyed snarled. “Pain isn't something you deserve or don't deserve. Pain is a teacher. It shows you that you’ve done something wrong, and warns against continuing. So, you hurt. What have you learned?”

The dark eyes blinked, and something like confusion crept in where there had been only emptiness. “Learned?”

“Yes, fool, what have you learned?”

“I know,” he began in a small voice, “I know now that I loved my family. I miss Peter bossing me around, trying to be a leader and protector, I miss Susan’s irritating mothering, I miss Lucy’s smile. Without them what is the point?” 

He seemed to lose words for a moment, his eyes screwed shut and face twisted into fury. “I know what hate is now. I hate the Witch! I hate her!”

A paw slapped the boy’s face, swiftly but with little strength behind it. “Must you speak such things so loudly?” growled Malyed. "You never know who's listening."

He looked down expectantly, but the boy had quieted again. A small trickle of blood dripped down one cheek. Somewhere a bird twittered half-heartedly in the gloomy morning. “Hmmm. It is past time to get you back to the castle,” said Malyed in a tired, quiet voice, and stepped off of Edmund’s shoulders. “Think about what you’ve learned. Think about what you can do now. And please, your Highness, try not to get yourself hurt.”

With one last glance at the slightly widened eyes, Malyed seized a mouthful of the boy’s sleeve and began tugging him back up the hill towards the ever-frozen castle. He felt as the boy looked back at the defiant statues, and felt a twinge of something like dread and something like half-forgotten hope as he heard the heavier thump of the boy’s left step—covered with stone it may be, frozen, painful, but it was not yet dead. Maybe this scrawny, furless cub would make it. And who knows, maybe he could even change things for all of them.


End file.
